Small Gestures
by thequillofimagination
Summary: Lily is sick of the muggleborn hate at Hogwarts- so she decides she has to do something, some small gesture to show she isn't beaten, even if nobody realises. But somebody does realise. And who would've ever known that James Potter would be so fascinated by something so simple? Set in the summer after 5th year (and in 6th year)


**A/N:** This fic is based off this post on tumblr, I hope you enjoy it!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the HP world or characters (more's the pity)

 _ **July 1976**_

That was _it._

She had to do something, some small gesture to show she wasn't beaten. She wouldn't do anything massive; Lily Evans was not an unintelligent girl. But something.

Really, the last straw had been Severus. She had known he wasn't the same boy she used to play with before they attended Hogwarts, but she had hoped that it wouldn't come to this- that he wouldn't go so far as to call her that horrible slur.

 _Mudblood_.

The word still rang in her ears like it had been yesterday, although the school year had long finished and she was now back at home. She'd not quite believed that Sev would stoop that low, just to get a dig in at Potter, of all people.

She was sick of it, honestly. Not just Severus, he had merely been the last in a long line of incidents. It was the anti-muggle sentiments that half the school seemed to have adopted. Even those who weren't pro-Death Eater tended to avoid muggleborns now, out of fear, and she just wanted to scream sometimes. If there was one thing Lily couldn't stand, it was the injustice of it all. And she just wished that in some small way, she could get her own back.

She glanced around her room for inspiration- as if the small, ordinary room that she lived in at home had much scope for imagination. Anything related to magic was safely tucked away in her trunk, after a conversation wherein her mother had asked her to try to make Tuney feel more comfortable. Not that she was ever home anymore- at least, you could almost guarantee that if Lily was at home, Petunia wouldn't be.

Her eyes skimmed over the photographs she had pinned up when she'd gotten home- photos of her friends, frozen with an Immobility Charm she'd used before leaving Hogwarts for the holidays. Even Tuney couldn't object to seemingly normal photos of a few friends.

She sighed. She supposed she should write to Marlene; she'd barely kept in touch with anyone for the past week or two, and Marlene was probably starting to worry about the lack of replies to her letters. The truth was, every time that she'd tried to write back, she'd found herself staring at an empty page, not knowing how to word the frustration that she was feeling at the world.

She stood up and opened her drawer to get a parchment and quill, and froze- of course, they were now in her trunk with the rest of her school things.

She rummaged through the drawer to see if she'd left one, and found nothing of use but an old pen and notepad- they would have to do.

 _Dear Marlene,_ she wrote, and then paused, looking down at the pen. How strange it was to not have to dip it in ink! It was a lot more efficient really. Why shouldn't wizards use pens? They weren't electronic, they were easier- but of course, they were muggle tools. Of course the wizarding community didn't want to admit that muggles were sometimes right, or clever.

And then it clicked. She knew exactly what to do to show she was sick of the prejudice, that she was proud of her heritage. She would use muggle pens.

Yes, it was a small gesture. It was probable that nobody would even notice. But _she_ would know, and that was enough, for now.

 _ **September 12th 1976**_

He was staring at her again.

It was nothing out of the ordinary, she should be used to it by now, but something about it was just unnerving her.  
She was sat in the common room writing her Charms essay, and James Potter was staring at her.

Well, more specifically, at her hand.

She endured it for about fifteen minutes, glancing up now and then to see the slight frown on his face, but eventually gave in.

She set her pen down, and James seemed to snap out of his reverie, his eyes snapping up to hers.

He looked slightly embarrassed when he realised she'd seen him watching her.

"What is it, Potter?" she asked warily. He glanced down at the floor and shrugged. Lily frowned. This was uncharacteristic for Potter, who was liable to blurt out exactly what he was thinking at any given moment.

"Come on, Potter, why is my hand so interesting all of a sudden?" She found herself feeling slightly concerned for him, even if he _was_ Potter. He grinned at her.

"Lily-flower, all of you is interesting to me," he proclaimed. She rolled her eyes.

"Potter..." she said, waiting for an explanation. He ran his hand through his hair absentmindedly.

"What is that...thing?" he nodded towards her pen, now lying on the arm of her chair. She glanced round to see it and suppressed a giggle.

"You've been staring at me for the past quarter of an hour...because of my pen?" She grinned.

He shrugged.

"I've never seen one before. How does it work without any ink?" he asked curiously.

"Well, it does use ink, but it's all inside it. It just sort of comes out when you write," she explained, struggling to describe something as ordinary to her as a pen. She picked it up and gave it to him. "Here, try it," she said. He held it almost reverently, before bending down to write his name on a scrap piece of paper. He straightened back up, his eyes wide.

"That's amazing! It didn't scratch at all and just the right amount of ink came out- how does it do that? I can't believe muggles have these and we still use bloody quills! Are they expensive? Where can I get one?"

Lily chuckled gently.

"They're not expensive at all, unless you get a really posh one. You can have that one if you like, I have plenty." She didn't know why she was giving James Potter a pen. He'd just seemed so excited by it, and besides, it didn't leave her short. She smiled a little. "And when that one runs out, I'm sure I can find you another." His face, which had lit up when she'd gifted him the pen, dropped slightly.

"They run out? Well they are small, how long do they last? A week?"

Lily shook her head.

"No, they last for ages. I've not had that one long so it should at least last you a good few months. Your main problem is gonna be losing it."

James shook his head.

"There's no way I'm gonna lose this, Lily. It's too cool." He grinned at her. "Thank you," he said.

For a second, just a second, her heart fluttered, but she dismissed it immediately.

"No problem, Potter. But next time you want to ask me a question, don't try to stare the answer out of me." She gathered her things, and headed towards the stairs. "See you later, James," she called, leaving a slightly flustered James behind her.

 _ **September 13th 1976**_

"Good morning Lilykins!" sang Sirius, plonking himself beside her at the Gryffindor table.

"Morning, Black," she said, between bites of toast. "What do you want?"

Sirius pulled a face of mock hurt.

"Dear, sweet, Lily, how could you think that I, of all people, have an ulterior motive?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Come on, Black, spit it out," she commanded. Sirius sighed.

"Alright, Evans. I have two things to discuss with you. Point number one," he said, piling food onto his plate, "if you were trying to discourage James, you have not done a very good job. I mean, come on, Evans, you gave him a pressie and then called him by his first name. Anybody might think you didn't hate his guts! Poor show." He shovelled some eggs and bacon into his mouth.

Lily sighed and shook her head.

"And point number two?" she asked.

"Point number two; can I have a pen?"


End file.
